FabianO

Actually, Lacoste has only managed to create one men's fragrance in my memory: The 1985 original

Even if the bottle is completely new - the content is not worth mentioning. The usual slightly fresh, slightly green-spotted water with sage, whose cheap, unimaginative Coty Laboratory origin cannot be denied in any second.

Cashmeran thick on top. Synthetic pure, soulless and uncharismatic and compared to that much too expensive.

Could one perhaps, strongly stretched out, be converted to hand disinfectant. A lot of it will be used up this winter.

I grew up with the 1974 original scent, which has absolutely nothing in common with this one except the name. The old one a somewhat rough, herbal, leathery patchouli whip with testicles, big as tennis balls, this newcomer rather Mister Kuschel-Bieber.

I perceive me among all the stuck together appearances of the last decade somewhere in the quality range "mediocre". Benchmarks for good gourmands are still for me things like "L'Instant Guerlain EdP" or "Dior Homme", which I would attest a remarkable innovation, an absolute balance and a timeless elegance.

After that, there was simply too much jumping on already rolling trains and pacing after them. Why the old "gentleman" is not simply renewed in the green patchouli sense without attacking the core character is a mystery to me; half the world of fragrances is already gourmand.

But well, it is solidly successful here, patchouli is a bit smoky-caramel, balsamic, but on the whole, due to the vanilla, also a bit rich in the basic sweetness. On the whole, however, it is relatively well-balanced, harmonious, and with a careful dosage also cuddly in the best winter sense. For me absolutely not a candidate to buy, but made decently by hand.

Wow, less than a minute on the skin, and I am willing to get rid of this surrogate as soon as possible.

I admit it, I haven't encountered such an artificially veiled impression of green scents for a long time. There are a number of detergents, and that's a nasty association that this aroma holds.

In a word: disgusting. In an extremely unnatural way, cobbled together from - I don't know - iso-E-super, cashmere, ambroxane?

Nothing in "Velvet Cypress" is real, lively, invigorating, wiry, dynamic, casual, Mediterranean. Instead, a mixture of blended, contourless, amorphous impressions that, if I had to endure them on someone sitting in front of me on the bus, would drive me to get off earlier and do something for my 10,000 steps a day rather than endure them longer than necessary. Really!

In order not to slip through the grid as a plagiarist - Hajo21 has already made the cover below, but I like to jump on the train.
I had almost feared that this Christmas sugar bombing would fly to the top of the men's ranking with the very same concomitants I just mentioned.

No, I admit it, it shakes me up at Le Mâle Le Parfum. The original has undoubtedly become a classic, which I also find too opulent, too sweet, but which somehow leaves a clear fingerprint.

Here, however, two blatant counter currents meet, which I find truly olfactorically annoying: On the one hand, the sugar bombardment of lots and lots of cardamom and vanilla, plus powdered iris. I perceive the vanilla extremely artificial, striking and unnatural. Cardamom can be very beautiful in a good dose, but here it hits you on the omme with a rubber hammer as if you had quickly eaten 3 lockdown fire tongs punch.

And then there's - yes, unfortunately as an antipode - this undertone, which really reminds me of the cheap, somewhat sour and aqautic "Alaska" shower gel from Axe, which I was really keen on as a teenager, but whose quality was quickly removed. This cheap lab style, coupled with an overkill of overcharged sweet pre-Christmas ashes, is simply fierce in the nose and even narrowly dosed brutal.

No, I strongly disagree with the canons of praise that are effusively spread here. I would not like to smell that a second time....

The purism that is supposed to be inherent in this fragrance, the only two ingredients listed above and also the diabolic color were the reason why I ordered this lutens for testing.

Orange peel and clove (elsewhere you read about tangerine and nutmeg) really set the tone here and the colour truly matches the contents.

The orange peel itself is the crass determinant at the beginning. Harvested almost somewhat unripe, a hearty, slightly bitter, but refreshingly spicy peel pierces the nose, whereby the flanking clove does not exactly stop behind the mountain. Some people may think of Christmas, but the complete absence of winter aromas (such as vanilla or amber) makes it possible to draw the clove into warmer climates.

When I recently tasted a red wine aged in a Bourbon barrel in my Insta wine blog, I realized once again how much the presence or absence of just one single component can shift the overall structure. The wine slipped aromatically completely into the winter category, as it had lost all of its bright fruitiness due to the sweetness and candy like quality of the whiskey cask and had put on a windbag coat

Here now it works the opposite way: The dominance of the per se summery orange (peel) allows for completely different atmospheric associations, although I fear that one or the other (as can be read below) is so strongly influenced by carnation=winter in his life experience that the head cinema inevitably starts up and chases the Christmas market visit through his head.

Nevertheless, it's an interestingly made scent, a little too present at the back, which is a little too violent with the carnation, especially in the middle part (when the orange fades). But worth testing.